


Party Planning

by pergamond



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen, RPG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13203048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pergamond/pseuds/pergamond
Summary: This mini-story is based in the TeniPuri AU-RPG, "Karura". A space-themed TeniPuri RPG, all Prince of Tennis characters are onboard a starship known as the Karura [https://karurarpg.dreamwidth.org/]. Tezuka is the ship's captain, while Atobe is the proprietor of the ship's exclusive "Ice Bar" (and heir to an indecent pile of cash, naturally). Yukimura (heavily mentioned but not actually in this fic) is a bounty hunter who tracks down those who attempt to evade justice by crossing between planetary system.In this short, Atobe wishes to persuade Tezuka to attend his year end party.Extract:It was a rare moment onboard the Karura when Tezuka found himself alone on the starship’s command bridge. On the cycle of the ship’s own circadian rhythm, it was evening and the shift change for the depleted personnel who worked during the holiday period. This had produced a brief lull in the bustle that usually surrounded the Earth Aerospace Alliance Academy’s star graduate. Tezuka wondered if it were concerning that it was during such times that he felt most like a captain.





	Party Planning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fulminata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fulminata/gifts).



It was a rare moment onboard the Karura when Tezuka found himself alone on the starship’s command bridge. On the cycle of the ship’s own circadian rhythm, it was evening and the shift change for the depleted personnel who worked during the holiday period. This had produced a brief lull in the bustle that usually surrounded the **E** arth **A** erospace **A** lliance Academy’s star graduate. Tezuka wondered if it were concerning that it was during such times that he felt most like a captain.

The duel-tone beep of the door announced that his solitude was about to be interrupted. Glancing slightly to the left of the ship’s main display screen, Tezuka saw a blonde haired man stride onto the bridge. Slate-grey eyes swept over the empty consoles and chairs once before coming to rest on Tezuka himself.

“You have finally dismissed your officers, Tezuka,” his visitor remarked. “Significantly overdue, but it would have been prudent to wait until a planet stop, na?”

“Atobe.” Tezuka acknowledged, the slightest sigh in the undertone of his polite greeting.

There was no point in asking what the scion to the largest cross-planetary cooperation was doing on the bridge. Likewise to inquiring as to how Atobe had acquired access, when his position as proprietor of the Karura’s most exclusive drinking establishment was not commensurate with command facility admittance. Tezuka suspected he knew at least part of the answer to the former query and that the scion-portion of Atobe’s role explained the second. He was disinclined to confirm either unless absolutely necessary.

Atobe joined him before the display, currently set to transparent to reveal the ethereal beauty of the surrounding galaxy. They both contemplated the view in silence for a beat. Tezuka returned to a childhood habit of attempting to count the stars and estimate the number of worlds they harboured before his eyes. He rather suspected Atobe did the same, but counted potential business subsidiaries instead.

“The year end party,” Atobe begun. “You will attend.”

It was not a phrased as a question, but Tezuka allowed that Atobe would only be raising the issue if he acknowledged Tezuka was perfectly capable of skipping the whole event. Atobe had also not specified which bonenkai he was referring to, but that too was justifiable; the Ice Bar’s annual event was legendary, if only because the gratuitous food and drink made it the one time in the year most could afford entry.

“I attend each year, Atobe.”

“Walking through the door and greeting a sum total of three people before departing does not count as ‘attendance’,” Atobe replied crisply. “Especially if that select number does not include myself and doubly so if it does include the bounty hunter.”

Tezuka fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose to off-set the beginnings of a headache. Yukimura Seiichi’s periodic appearances onboard the Karura were frequently the object of discussions with Atobe. Their mutual acquaintance delighted in visiting the Ice Bar if only to demonstrate that price alone was not sufficient to restrict the clientele to those who would brown-nose the young scion.

“The captain is never entirely off duty,” he replied, feeling that his presence on an otherwise empty bridge was a good demonstration as to why that was true.

Atobe gave a dismissive flick of his fingers. “Indeed. Yet we could discuss your schedule now and arrange the event for a night when your more competent officers are on duty.” He slid a platinum ring off his finger and inspected it in the light before sliding it back onto his hand. It was a plain band whose price Tezuka suspected could refurnish every room on the Karura’s top three decks.

“Not the boy,” Atobe continued. “He would abandon a flight path bound for a black hole in the face of free food.”

Tezuka did not respond to the barb against his senior flight officer. Echizen Ryoma was an outstanding pilot and Tezuka was almost certain he would not abandon his position in such an eventuality. Then he made a mental note to ensure a selection of food from the Ice Bar was provided on the bridge if he did need Echizen that night.

“We will pick-up new crew members when we dock with the EAA Vespa station on the 27th of December,” Tezuka responded. “Until then, the Karura is short-staffed and my presence is needed.”

He paused to consider the view of the swath of stars surrounding them before adding, “We will also connect with the Hiruko at that time.”

In Japanese mythology, Hiruko was the child of the first male and female gods. It was also the name of Yukimura’s shuttle.

Atobe made a noise of discontent as he turned to look at him. “So I must tolerate such unsavoury individuals at my own festivities if I am to have your presence at all?”

Given the ship-wide spectacle that was the Ice Bar bonenkai, Tezuka felt it a stretch to imply this would be an intrusion on a personal gathering.

“I am simply telling you the Karura’s schedule,” he replied, reluctantly facing the bar tender. “I have never attempted to control when you organise your events.”

Under different circumstances, Tezuka would have noted that the date Atobe selected would make little different to Yukimura’s attendance; as one of the few Karura residents with his own shuttle and open docking rights, Yukimura was liable to weave his plans to ensure he was onboard during open events at the Ice Bar. Nominally, the motive was that the prestigious establishment acted as a magnet to many high profile names with equally high prices on their heads. Tezuka privately suspected the bigger draw was the opportunity to tweak Atobe’s nose.

In this case, however, Tezuka knew the Hiruko was too distant to make it home before their rendezvous in the Vespa system. If Atobe did chose an earlier date, he would be free of both Yukimura’s presence and most of his own.

“You could decide the new year is deserving of ridding the Karura of such filth,” Atobe proposed.

Tezuka compromised on the full nose pinch by removing his glasses and cleaning one of the lenses. He flicked a spec of dust from the frame until the urge to roll his eyes subsided.

“You are well aware of Yukimura’s name. His occupation is entirely legal.”

On paper, which was all Tezuka strictly had to be concerned about. There was the small fact that Yukimura strode through the Karura with almost every class of weapon banned by the EAA, but the items were not visible and went unmentioned.

“He strides through the Karura with almost every class of weapon banned by the EAA.”

Usually unmentioned.

“He keeps them from my sight and I appreciate his need for protection,” Tezuka replied. If Yukimura had revealed his armaments to Tezuka or during one of the Karura’s routine searches of incoming vessels, Tezuka would have been forced to act. Fortunately, Yukimura was very good at his job. It was why Tezuka trusted him.

Atobe gave an involuntary flinch. Tezuka had heard rumours that Atobe had been less lucky in avoiding Yukimura’s collection. Fortunately for his paperwork, neither of them had been onboard the Karura at the time.

Tezuka replaced his glasses and turned back to the main screen. “If I were successful in banning Yukimura, you would miss him,” he added.

It would cut off at least 80% of Atobe’s conversation topics. It was almost worth considering for that alone.

“Try it and be awed by how well I cope.”

This shift had been the quietest all year, yet it was still destined to end with aspirin.

“There are few visitors to the Ice Bar with whom you converse with for half the evening,” Tezuka pointed out.

The majority of Atobe’s patrons were those who wished to be simply acknowledged by the proprietor, hoping that this was a connection that could benefit them later. If they spent enough money, they got their wish. For about three minutes. The number that achieved more than that Tezuka could count on one hand; Oshitari Yuushi, the ship’s medic. Yukimura. Himself. And his senior flight officer’s cat.

“It is a role you could easily fill yourself,” Atobe informed him.

And that was the other reason for not banning the borderline-illegal bounty hunter. Tea breaks would be history.

“Atobe.” Tezuka repeated, wearily.

They stood in silence once again, contemplating the expanse. Finally, Atobe spoke.

“A traditional gathering on New Year’s Eve at the Ice Bar,” he proposed. “You will do your best to attend through the turn of the year. I will withdraw my objections to the bounty hunter’s presence.”

Tezuka continued to gaze at the screen for a minute and then turned to look back at Atobe. “Your objections?” he clarified.

Atobe looked at him and then away, reluctantly clearing his throat. “I will not mention my displeasure at his appearance for the duration of this next visit.”

Being utterly silent on the subject for the entirety of 2018 would have been preferable. Yet, Tezuka was a consummate leader. Never request the impossible of any individual; you will get less than if you negotiate within their limitations. This still made the above suggestion borderline, but the turn of the year was a traditional time for wishes.

“I would be happy to attend,” he told Atobe. “Barring emergencies, for a significant period of the night.”

As officers began to arrive on the bridge for the next shift, Tezuka wondered if Yukimura would be feel this was a debt owed and if so, which of the two of them was the one who must repay.


End file.
